Darkness Changes... (BBC Sherlock Fanfiction)

Chapter 6- Looks Like I've Finally Changed...

A/N- GIF shows kind of how she changes.. you'll see... Italics is Third Person POV and actually happening over time... I'm using a lot of italics, oops

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Darcy's POV

The entire day. The entire next day she left me alone in that room, strapped to a chair for a whole day. Contemplating everything.

I was soaked to the bone and freezing cold, with nobody. Not even Kate to keep me company.

Not that I minded, I didn't really like people that much but still. The only food I got all day was two slices of bread and some water, and that was the worst torture.

I was still in the tartan dress I had worn yesterday and I was starting to hate the pattern even more than I already did. My wrists were surely red from the amount of times I had tried to squeeze my hands through the straps and my back ached from having to sit in the same spot for that long.

With little energy, my head had dropped back onto the chair and I just stayed there. I licked my lips occasionally and tried to keep myself hydrated with my own saliva. Gross, I know.

My breathing had become laboured and the sweat was literally rolling off of me, why was I in this state? Yes, it was rather hot down here but I think it was more to do with the hallucinogens that had been undesirably pumped into my system.

Twice.

I ended up thinking about Sherlock and John, whether they were thinking about me and if I was safe or not. I imagined the conversations they might be having or they should be having with me if I were there. I'd never really done that before, imagined conversations, I'd never been one of those people.

But I had nothing better to do.

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Sherlock paced in front of the sofa in 221B Baker Street, wearing pyjamas and a dressing gown, instead of going to bed. He was thinking. Trying to think.

"Can you stop this?" John asked him and went back to reading his book.

But Sherlock didn't stop. It had been at least four days since Darcy had been taken and Sherlock didn't want to believe that she had betrayed them.

"Sherlock, she's gone okay? She chose to leave and that's the end of it."  John told him forcefully and Sherlock stormed over to his armchair, collapsing into it.

"Did she? Darcy didn't seem all too keen to go with him." Sherlock argued and glared over at John.

He dropped his book firmly, "You have to let this go. For your own well being."

Sherlock tutted, "My own well being." He got up swiftly and went to the window, peering out into the night, "I'll be fine, John, but what about her?"

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I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm going to be fine, I kept telling myself.

It had to be late in the day by now, it had to be. I'd been sat here for so long it must have been.

No contact, except Tim who brought me my limited food, and just the company of the crazy thoughts swimming through the house in my mind. I'd spent a lot of time there, organising things and disposing of memories I no longer felt I needed. Most consisted of my time at the orphanage.

I flinched when the sound of a door opening filled the room and I immediately stared at the door when the clicking of heels followed. I glared as best as could at Irene as she sauntered towards me and crouched in front of where I was confined, with a feigned sympathetic look on her face.